


Vacillation

by underoriginal



Category: Worm - Wildbow
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen, Not a romance, clockblocker joins the undersiders, sort of
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-14
Updated: 2016-06-13
Packaged: 2018-05-20 07:57:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,247
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5997823
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/underoriginal/pseuds/underoriginal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Frustrated and fed up with not being able to make any real change in the wake of Leviathan, Clockblocker has a series of chance encounters with Skitter that make him question his tightly held morals.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Gnomon 1.1

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to Edale for the title.

Dennis’s arms burned as he heaved aside a broken metal door. It had been part of a bomb shelter, back in the days when people still worried about bombs. The rubble above it groaned ominously. Dennis ran his finger over the debris, freezing it into place.

“You can come out now,” he called into the shelter. “The coast’s clear.”

No response, except for the quiet sounds of someone trying desperately not to breathe too loudly.

“Don’t worry, I’m a hero,” he called.

A truly impressive string of curses followed. Dennis made sure to record them for posterity. Or next week. Whichever.

The rubble shifted and Dennis froze it again. “You might wanna get moving,” he warned. “I can’t hold this forever.”

“You know, you can just leave them,” Shadow Stalker said in his comm. “We’ve got a lot more people to help out and that guy doesn’t want to be helped.”

That, more than anything else, hardened Dennis’s nerve. “I’m going in,” he murmured, pulling out his flashlight, shining it into the darkness.

“Sure, whatever,” Shadow Stalker said. “Your funeral. If you get a funeral for this. It might still count as Endbringer time. Anyway, I’m going out on patrol. See ya.”

“Who’s taking over for you?” Dennis asked, but she had already hung up. He swore and stepped into the bomb shelter.

A moment later, an invisible force shoved him to his knees, driving him into the shelter. The rubble crumbled behind him, collapsing the exit. He was trapped. He tried calling headquarters, but Shadow Stalker had run off halfway through her shift. He wouldn’t be able to reach anyone for another hour, at least. On top of that, he’d broken his flashlight in the fall.

Blanketed in darkness, Dennis felt around for a way out. Prodding the ceiling led to a worrying rumble. He froze the ceiling, effectively sealing himself underground. He forced himself not to panic as the long, cold minutes plodded by. No use wasting his oxygen. At least the bugs crawling all over him weren’t suffocating.

The bugs. Skitter.

Dennis paused, taking shallow, careful breaths. The bugs moved over him in eerily straight lines, tracking his every move.

“Can you hear me?” Dennis asked the bugs. “I could use some help down here.”

More time passed as the bugs examined him. Dennis considered asking again, but he wasn’t quite desperate enough to beg a supervillain for help. Not yet anyway. Finally, Dennis heard a small thump. Feeling his way around, he found a small walkie talkie with what Dennis hoped weren’t spiders crawling all over it..

“Who are you?” the voice from the walkie talkie asked.

“Clockblocker,” Dennis said, the spiders guiding his fingers to the right buttons. “And I take it I’m talking to Skitter?”

“You are,” Skitter confirmed.

Dennis stood in the darkness awkwardly, not sure how to continue the conversation. Skitter broke the silence for him.

“This a Merchant trap?” she asked.

“I think so.”

“You got your team coming?”

Dennis paused, thinking. He really didn’t want to admit to a supervillain that he didn’t have backup, but she seemed like his best chance for a rescue. He couldn’t hold the roof up forever. He would tire eventually. Or worse, run out of air. “Not for a while,” he admitted.

“I know the feeling,” Skitter muttered. 

Right. She had left her team behind. No one really knew why, but they weren’t complaining either. No one in their right mind would complain about not having to fight an army of spiders.

“Are we just gonna talk about your feelings or are you gonna get me out of here?” Dennis demanded. Maybe not the politest way to talk to a girl with poisonous spiders crawling all over him, but it had been a long day.

“Why should I?” Skitter asked.

“I’ll owe you a favor,” Dennis offered. “Not-not like a nefarious favor. Just, maybe coffee or something?” he amended quickly.

There was a long pause. “Are… are you asking me out?”

“No!” Dennis insisted. “I’m just not gonna go around committing crimes for you. I’m still a hero and you’re still a villain.”

“Sure,” Skitter said. She sounded tired, worn down. “I give you my word as a schemer and an ill doer that I will involve you in no dastardly schemes.”

“No need to get all sarcastic on me,” Dennis shot back. 

“You got a problem with my witty retorts, Clockblocker?” Skitter snarled. When he didn’t respond, she added, “Yeah, I don't blame you. They suck.”

“So are you helping me or not?” Dennis ventured.

“Helping,” Skitter said, “in exchange for a non-criminal favor.”

Dennis sighed in relief, making sure the walkie talkie didn’t catch it. “Great, so get me out of here.”

“Bug girl, remember?” Skitter laughed. “We can't all be Alexandria. I can’t just throw a beetle at a wall and open a hole or something. How did you get stuck down here anyway?”

“Merchant trap. I think. Heard some civilians down here, tried to help them, get buried alive.”

Skitter hummed in agreement. “That does seem to be how these things go.”

There was a sound above Dennis’s head of shifting and creaking, then a massive thud and dirt rained down on his head. 

“Okay, this could be trickier than I thought,” Skitter said. “The rubble’s pretty unstable. You got any visuals down there?”

“Complete darkness,” Dennis reported. 

“Right,” Skitter declared. “You hold tight and I’ll have a look around.”

The bugs on Dennis marched away, but he could still hear them chittering and buzzing at the walls. He could feel himself starting to get dizzy and his fingers shook. “There’s not a whole lot of air down here,” he said.

“Save it,” Skitter warned. “This could take a while.” 

Dennis swore silently and listened to the creaks and moans of wood and steel above him. Just as he started seeing bright spots in his vision, a piece of concrete fell away, revealing the cold light of dawn. 

Skitter peered down into the hole, dragonflies and wasps circling her head like a fallen angel’s halo. “Don’t climb out just yet,” she said. “It might still collapse.”

“I can freeze it while I climb out,” Dennis said. 

He had no idea if Skitter raised an eyebrow at that, but from her tone, she definitely should have. “You think you can fit through this hole?” she asked. 

Dennis didn't respond.

“Thought so.” She moved away from the hole, out of his sight. “So, where is your team, anyway?”

“Why do you want to know?” Dennis asked. 

“I dunno,” Skitter said. “Just trying to make conversation.”

“They have their own patrols,” Dennis explained as neutrally as possible. “Where’s your team?”

There was a long pause. “I’m not really a team player,” Skitter said slowly.

“I don't believe you,” Dennis said. 

Another long pause. “I don't have to help you,” Skitter said. “I’d probably be better off just leaving you here. I can’t trust that you won’t try to arrest me.”

“And I can’t trust that you won’t try to kill me,” Dennis pointed out. “The distrust is pretty mutual. So, where’s your team?” He knew where her team was. At least, he knew they weren’t with her. As much as he told himself that he wanted to make sure a villain didn’t know how much info they had, part of him was tired, frustrated, and just wanted to lash out.

“Don’t bullshit me,” Skitter said tiredly. She didn’t seem to be working on getting him out. 

“Sorry. It’s been a long day.”

“It’s been a long week,” Skitter sighed.

“There’s usually someone at HQ I can call,” Dennis explained. “Shadow Stalker was on duty and she just ran off. It’s another fifteen or twenty minutes until shift change.”

Skitter mumbled something Dennis didn’t catch and got back to work. Before long, the hole widened enough for Dennis to climb out. He stood in the street, a mere foot away from Skitter.

She was smaller than Dennis expected, only coming up to his chest, but her swarm surrounded her, adding thousands and thousands of venomous fangs to her bulk. She stepped away from him and a line of dragonflies kept the distance between them.

“Thank you,” Dennis said sincerely.

Skitter inclined her head. “You owe me.”

Dennis nodded. “You know, um, you could probably find a place in the Wards-”

“No.”

Dennis blinked. “Are you sure? You could do a lot of good as a hero.” If nothing else, Dennis would be overjoyed to never face her in battle again. He’d been arachnophobic before he met her. He didn’t need his fears becoming reality.

Skitter laughed quietly. “How’s Armsmaster these days?” she asked pointedly.

Dennis flinched. “So, you know about that, huh?”

“He tried to kill me,” Skitter snarled. “Yeah, I noticed. Don’t know if Kaiser or Fenja did, but I guess they aren’t alive to tell us. Or Aegis.” She shook her head. “I bet you could do a lot more good as a villain than I could as a hero.”

Dennis sighed, fighting down the tight pang of grief in his chest. “I’m not interested in villainy.”

“Neither was I,” Skitter said sadly. “And yet here I am. You seem like a decent guy, so I’ll give you a fair warning. You think you can rehabilitate Shadow Stalker. You can’t. I know her. She’s a lunatic. Don’t turn your back to her.”

“I already knew that,” Dennis replied. 

Skitter turned and walked away. Dennis considered trying to freeze her, but she would sense him before he got close. Besides, it would be tantamount to breaking a truce. Skitter seemed to have gotten more than enough trouble from heroes.

“Hey!” he called after her. 

She stopped, but didn’t turn around.

“No one should be out on their own in times like this,” he said. “If you won’t join the Wards, find a team that will take you. We’re stronger in numbers.”

She kept walking.

Dennis stared after her for a few moments. Then he shook himself and started back towards base. He had to take a long, twisting path to keep out of the worst of the flooding, debris and waste floating by in the streets.

As he walked, his mind wandered back to Skitter’s words. ‘You could do a lot more good as a villain than I could as a hero.’ It was true that he chafed under the restrictions of the PRT, that he wanted to go out and help people, not sit in classes all day with murders and drug deals - crimes that he could have stopped - happening while he took a math quiz. 

He didn’t have school these days, but he felt more useless than ever. He could freeze Leviathan for a few minutes, but he couldn’t save anyone from the aftermath. He couldn’t stop the people who killed each other for scraps because that was all there was to eat, who filled their blood with meth or crack to forget that they had lost everything else in the blink of an eye.

He couldn’t even go on a simple patrol without getting himself trapped. And then it had been a villain to save him. His own team, and Shadow Stalker was part of his team, hadn’t been there to help him. Really, they shouldn’t have been. But no one would have found him before he suffocated if Skitter hadn’t been there.

As soon as he reached the PRT building, he strode up to Miss Militia’s office. He knocked twice and she ushered him inside. She sat behind a desk piled high with paperwork, her weapon, currently a dagger, balanced on the corner. She glanced up at him.

“What can I do for you, Clockblocker?” she asked. She looked exhausted even though she didn’t need to sleep. They were all exhausted.

“I owe a villain a favor,” Dennis reported, staring straight ahead, not daring to look at Miss Militia.

“Oh?” Miss Militia asked. “Elaborate.”

“I got trapped in a Merchant trap on my patrol,” Dennis explained. “Underground, rubble collapsed. I didn’t have much oxygen and the hub was down. Skitter found me and freed me in exchange for a non-criminal favor.”

Miss Militia didn’t speak. Dennis glanced at her. Her eyes were completely expressionless. “Thank you for telling me,” she finally said. “We have three or four heroes in similar straits and they seem to think that they need to keep it secret. They aren’t very good at it, of course, but it makes my life that much more difficult. You did insist that it be non criminal?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Dennis confirmed.

“And she agreed?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Look at me, Clockblocker.”

Dennis met her eyes firmly, his hands shaking behind his back.

“This is hardly an ideal situation, but it could be much worse,” Miss Militia said. “We can only hope this will be resolved quickly. Do not act as though anything has changed in your interactions with Skitter unless she calls in the debt. She will almost certainly try to gain small favors, asking you to look the other way and things like that. Ignore those. No use giving her more than she already got. And keep me informed.”

“What if her favor is that I not tell you something?” Dennis asked.

“Deliberately withholding information from your superiors,” Miss Militia said. “We stretch those rules for capes, but you should be able to call it criminal action. Remember, you owe her a favor, not your soul.”

“I’ll keep that in mind, ma’am,” Dennis said.

Before Miss Militia could respond, his watch buzzed. He glanced down at his phone. It was from his mother. He read the text twice, refusing to believe it.

“I need to go,” he whispered. “Dad… he’s-” He couldn’t say it.

Miss Militia stood up, grabbed his shoulder wordlessly. He didn’t try to hug her, but he did lean close. “Go,” she ordered. “Take time off if you need it. We can cover for you.”

He knew she was lying, knew that they needed all the help they could get, but this wasn’t the time to call her out on it. He picked up his phone and punched in his mom’s cell phone number.

“When?” he asked as soon as she picked up.

“Not long,” his mother replied, her voice thick with tears. “Maybe a few hours ago at most. We just got here. It was in his sleep though,” she offered, like that would somehow make it better. Soften the blow. “He didn’t feel a thing.”

A week ago, Dennis would have believed that. “I’ll be there as soon as I can,” he promised. “I might be able to get out of here in a couple hours if we don’t have supplies coming in. Or I could ride in one of the evac choppers. Keep someone stable, they always need help with that. I’m good at that, I could-” He stopped, choking back tears of his own. “I’ll be there.”

“Dennis,” his mother said. “I want to see you more than anything else in the world, but, well, I’ve seen the news. They need you in Brockton Bay.”

Dennis walked as he talked, his footsteps almost unconsciously carrying him to the memorial of Leviathan’s attack. He was still in costume and civilians stayed out of his way. A lot of people in costumes came by the memorial. Formally, it was Protectorate territory, but no one would have chased a villain away.

“They can manage without me for a few days,” Dennis insisted, leaning back against one of the few trees in the city that hadn’t been destroyed. “Miss Militia already granted leave for any Ward who wants it. I’m not gonna stay in school and wait around while you - while you bury Dad.”

“No one’s asking you to wait around and do nothing, Denden,” his mother said firmly, using a nickname he hadn’t heard since he was a toddler. “But you, you’re a hero. You save lives. Go, help people.”

So that was it. “I’ll come by as soon as I can. I love you,” Dennis whispered and hung up before she could reply. He quickly texted her ‘working’ so she wouldn’t call back. She would spend the next few hours in a panic, but a small, vindictive part of him couldn’t help but relish it. Sure, he saved a handful of strangers every once in a while, but he couldn’t save his own father. His mother hated him, he was sure of it.

He groaned and hit his head into the tree then sat down in front of the memorial, tracing his fingers over the names some vandal had carved into the base. Misspelled names in a broken hand. It resonated uncomfortably.

“You again, huh?”

Dennis looked over his shoulder. Skitter stood some distance away, watching him with her head tilted.

“You got your favor?” Dennis asked.

Skitter shook her head. “No. I just like coming here sometimes. It clears my head.”

Dennis bristled. “Seeing the names of the people who died to save us?” he demanded. “A reminder of everything we’ve lost? That clears your head?”

Skitter shrugged, sitting down next to him, far enough away that it wouldn’t feel like a threat. “Reminds me what I’m fighting for.”

“You sound like a hero, talking like that,” Dennis scoffed. He was almost grateful for the distraction, something to take his mind off the futility of his life.

“I’m too selfish for that,” Skitter said. “At least, that’s what they tell me.”

Dennis nodded. “You talk to your team?” he asked.

“Nope. You?”

“Not yet.”

They lapsed into an uneasy silence. Dennis watched Skitter out of the corner of his eye. A few dozen spiders collected in her lap, spinning out silk, weaving it into strange and inexplicable patterns. It took Dennis a few minutes to realize that was her way of keeping calm, like playing with her hair or something. Her bugs were quiet, except for their feet and wings touching together every so often.

Skitter reached out, bugs leaping out of her way, to touch the names carved into the base of the memorial.

“Those names mean something to you?” Dennis asked.

Skitter hummed an affirmative. “Bitch’s dogs,” she explained. She didn’t elaborate.

Dennis’s watch buzzed again. He checked his phone. “Emergency. All Wards return to headquarters for briefing.” He got to his feet.

“You leaving?” Skitter asked, not looking at him.

“Ward’s business,” Dennis said.

“Guess, I’ll see around, then,” Skitter said.

It wasn’t the worst thing a villain had ever told him, but it sent a chill down his spine nonetheless.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not 100% satisfied with this chapter, but let me know what you think. Will not be Taylor/Dennis as anything more than a BrOTP.


	2. Gnomon 1.2

Dennis rushed back to base as quickly as he could. Not for the first time, he wished he had the kind of mobility that Kid Win or Vista enjoyed. Even at a speed just shy of a sprint, it took him a whole two minutes to arrive. A lot could happen in two minutes. Too much. Besides, with the way his day was going, he assumed the worst.

The grim look on Weld’s face confirmed his worries. “Three triple murders,” Weld said without preamble. “All by capes, all at about the same time. No more than fifteen minutes ago. We’re checking out one of the scenes.”

Clockblocker slipped into work mode, falling into step at Weld’s right side. He resented the Director for sending them a new leader, but at least he didn’t have to lead himself. Kid Win sidled up next to Clockblocker, threading their fingers together. Clockblocker gave his fingers a reassuring squeeze.

“Where were you?” Kid Win asked in a hush as they took their places in a PRT van.

“Tell you later,” Clockblocker replied, turning his attention to their fearless leader.

“You know, you’re more than welcome to take a break,” Weld was telling Vista.

Vista fixed him with a hard look. “I’m fine,” she said cooly.

“No one here will fault you for needing time to recover,” Weld insisted. Clockblocker narrowed his eyes and Kid Win scoffed. Vista had been a Ward since she was eight. She was probably more experienced than Weld. Sure, she was still a kid, but Clockblocker had a lot more respect for her than he did for a newbie.

“I’m fine,” Vista repeated. “I don’t need you to hold my hand. I’ve been in the field longer than you have.”

“I know,” Weld said, “but I’m not just worried about your field experience.”

“Hey chill out,” Glory Girl said, leaning back against the wall of the van with one ankle crossed over her knee. “Everyone here knows what they’re doing. This isn’t our first rodeo. We’ve got a pretty solid team here.”

“Except for Shadow Stalker,” Flechette pointed out. “Where is she?”

So that explained Clockblocker’s lack of headache. He shrugged. “Who knows? She likes to wander off sometimes. Probably got some secret girlfriend or something. Piggy knows about it so we don’t worry about it much. She’s a pain in the ass, you know?”

“Yeah, I noticed,” Flechette laughed. “But she doesn’t have a secret girlfriend. I’m pretty damn sure I’m the token lesbian here.”

Clockblocker held his fist out and Flechette bumped it. “Secret boyfriend, whatever.”

“Why does the Director keep her around if she keeps sneaking off?” Weld asked curiously. 

“She’s on parole,” Kid Win said, fiddling with one of his fancy new guns. “Used to be a vigilante, nearly killed a guy, now she’s our responsibility or whatever. Like a really bad roommate but with attempted murder. I knew a guy like that one time in like elementary school. Or, well, I should have been in elementary school but I was taking a couple high school classes and there was this senior who was taking our gym class because he hadn’t bothered to take it yet and he offered me vodka one time. I didn’t take it but it was still kinda weird and I think he got arrested but I’m not sure. I can’t really keep track of all the fights at our school. There aren’t that many fights but when they do happen, they’re pretty bad and anyway I stay out of them. So yeah Shadow Stalker’s kinda like that. Sorta. Not really. Ignore me.”

Weld stared. “I see,” he said. Then he shook himself. “We’re here.”

Flechette went first, her crossbow held high, scanning her surroundings for any potential threats. She knew how to act like a professional, even if she was probably as out of her depth as the rest of them. 

Clockblocker followed her into the burned out husk of the building. He had to cover his mouth with his hands to block out the smell.

Three corpses, mutilated beyond recognition, hung nearly twenty feet up on the walls. Below them, the Travelers stood in a loose ring. Clockblocker tensed for a fight. The Travellers didn’t have anyone as ridiculously powerful as Faultline’s Shaker 12, but they came close. 

“Pardon the cliche, but this isn’t what it looks like,” Trickster said. Above them, the gargoyle creature withdrew its appendage, hanging out of the window. 

“I believe you,” Weld said. “I’ve read your files and this doesn’t look like your M.O. to me.”

“Excellent,” Trickster said with a tip of his hat. “We’ll be on our way.”

“No,” Weld said. “You’re still as suspect. But if you would come into custody-”

Trickster shook his head. “I am a gentleman but not a fool. Whatever crimes my team has allegedly committed, your energy is best focused here, chasing down the one who did this.” He gestured at the corpse whose limbs had been replaced by lengths of metal chain. “This one was still alive when we got here. Died within minutes, but he was definitely breathing.”

Weld opened his mouth, but Vista cut him off. “Did he say anything before he died?” he asked.

Clockblocker nodded approvingly. Keep them talking, keep them from fighting. Try not to damage the crime scene. He stepped in front of Kid Win to block the Travellers’ view while Kid Win alerted headquarters.

Trickster shook his head. “I doubt he was still conscious. We were trying to get him down.”

“You find anything else around here?” Kid Win asked, stepping out from behind Clockblocker to wander the room.

“Nothing but the bugs,” Trickster said.

“Skitter?” Weld asked.

Trickster laughed. “The little bug girl? I seriously doubt that. You think bugs could do this?” he demanded, gesturing to the corpses. 

“I suppose not,” Weld conceded. Besides, Clockblocker thought, Skitter had been with him when the murders had happened. Not that he was about to mention that to his superiors. “Now, I think we should finish this discussion at the PRT headquarters.”

“I’m rather inclined to disagree,” Trickster said smoothly. Behind him, his team shifted, reading themselves for battle.

Adrenaline flooded through Clockblocker. This was what he wanted, this was what he needed. A chance to fight against a real enemy, to do something more than breaking up desperate fights and trying to reassure people when things were even worse than they knew. He dropped into a fighting stance, feeling his power gather at his fingertips. He was powerful enough to break the laws of the universe, for a little bit. He craved the chance to do it.

Trickster gasped in shock and fell over, an arrowhead lodged in his shoulder.

“Miss me?” Shadow Stalker asked from behind him as she fired again, striking Ballistic and Sundancer before they could react.

One bolt bounced off of Ballistic’s thick armor and he slung Sundancer over one shoulder, using his other hand to shoot rubble at the Wards. Weld ripped up part of the floorboards and Clockblocker froze it in place, forming an impenetrable wall. Genesis leapt into the room and plucked up Trickster, spitting out a thick black gas, filling the room.

Clockblocker made a mental note to commission a mask with a filter system as he doubled over, hiding his face in his hands and breathing as shallowly as he could. Around him, his team members did the same, except for Weld, who vaulted over the wall to Shadow Stalker.

Shadow Stalker had taken the brunt of the gas and she lay prone on the ground, the edges of her body flickering and waving. Weld shielded her, opening up a cavity in his chest where she could hide her face and hopefully breathe cleaner air.

As the gas cleared and the rest of the Wards went over to her, she looked up at them, her whole body trembling. “H-help,” she whispered.

Clockblocker shuddered internally. He didn’t like Shadow Stalker, none of them did, but he had never seen her scared enough to ask for help before. His lungs were screaming in agony from just a little bit of the gas.

“Hey, it’s okay. We’ll get you back to base, okay?” Weld offered gently. “You’ll be alright. Just take deep breaths and try to cough it out.”

Shadow Stalker nodded. “I’m fine,” she whispered. “I’ll be fine. Just, just let’s get back to base.”

They piled back into the van and Shadow Stalker retreated into the corner, snarling at everyone like she was trying to make up for her moment of weakness. Vista pulled out her headphones and started listening to music. She did that a lot when Shadow Stalker got into a mood. It had been Kid Win’s idea after he found her crying in her room because of something Shadow Stalker had said. 

Kid Win leaned his head into Clockblocker’s chest. “PRT are telling us to let them handle this,” he murmured. “Telling us not to get involved.”

Weld nodded. “Understood.”

“I don’t see why,” Glory Girl said. “You can always use an extra pair of eyes on a case like this. Besides, it would give me something to do.”

“What you do in your own time is your business,” Weld said. “But if the Protectorate wants the Wards to stay on regular patrols, that’s what we’re gonna do.”

“Besides, it’s over our pay grade anyway,” Flechette put in. 

Dennis slung his arm over Kid Win’s shoulders and tilted his head back to sleep. He still felt the aggression and anger boiling through his entire body. He needed a fight desperately. Too much had happened in too short a time. He was emotionally exhausted and still hadn’t gotten a chance to begin processing everything. All he really wanted to do was sleep or punch something. Or punch something in his sleep. Either one would do.

Before long, they reached headquarters. The main team went up to the conference room to debrief while Weld sent Shadow Stalker off to medical. Glory Girl went home, presumably to fill her team in on what they’d seen.

Weld stood off to one side while the rest of the team took chairs. Dennis had tried to freeze a chair for him, but the effect wore off too quickly and Weld ended up destroying Piggy’s second favorite chair. At least Weld was convinced it was an accident.

A minute later, Miss Militia strode into the room, an assault rifle slung over her back.

“Report,” she ordered.

Weld described their encounter with the Travellers, Vista and Kid Win offering their version of events occasionally. Dennis stayed quiet.

“Anything to add, Clockblocker?” Miss Militia asked and it was only then that Dennis realized how little attention he had been paying to Weld’s report.

“No, ma’am,” he said. “That’s all.” 

She nodded. “In that case, let me just confirm what you heard from the PRT. Stay out of this. Don’t even think about it, if you can. Worry about your regular patrols. We can handle this. This is nothing you need to be involved in. Get some rest.”

A chorus of ‘yes ma’am’s followed.

Not half a second later, the alarms rang. “Shadow Stalker is under Master control,” a voice called from the intercoms. “Repeat: Shadow Stalker is under Master control.”

Miss Militia’s gun transformed into a harpoon that she used to rappel from the conference room to the ground floor. Vista bent the walls to let the Wards follow. They arrived in the main foyer just in time to watch Shadow Stalker shoot two PRT guards in the throat. One fell unconscious, but the other bolt went deep, too deep. 

“Red rover!” Vista called.

“Roger,” Clockblocker confirmed. He stepped forward right to the man’s side and froze him, stopping the flow of blood.

Shadow Stalker rushed for him in her gaseous form, but the space between them expanded and she turned away as Flechette started firing bolts at her that sunk deep enough into the floor that only the barest ends stuck out. Shadow Stalker rushed for the door, but this time Weld stopped her, sticking his hands out to let her run through him.

She stumbled, her body writhing as it pulled together. Her face contorted in agony, but she kept moving towards the door even as Weld tried to pull her back. Clockblocker moved to help, but he heard a gurgle of blood behind him.

“I’m out,” he called. “Watching wounded.”

“Roger,” Kid Win replied. “Duck.”

Clockblocker did and stayed down as the shot from Kid Win’s gun ricocheted throughout the room, leaving behind a steady trail of crackling electricity, trapping Shadow Stalker in a web of potentially lethal current. Her eyes went wide and her hands shook, but she held them out as she walked towards the lines, her body flickering into its shadow state.

“Don’t try it,” Kid Win yelled. “I never figured out how to turn it off.”

Abruptly, Shadow Stalker stopped, then fell to her knees, hands above her head. “It would seem we’re at an impasse,” she said.

“So it would seem,” Miss Militia said. She had a tranquilizer gun aimed at Shadow Stalker, but she couldn’t activate it without Shadow Stalker falling into Kid Win’s current. “Care to explain why you took one of our Wards, Regent?”

Clockblocker hissed in surprise. Regent. One of the Undersiders. He thought back to his conversation with Skitter. Did she know what her teammate was capable of? He doubted it. If she would condone something like this, she never would have helped him. But Regent wasn’t the only fucked up Undersider. Maybe Skitter was beyond redemption. 

Shadow Stalker laughed and it came out shaky. “I don’t kiss and tell,” she-Regent-said. “Why don’t we all just wait here until Kid Win’s cute little trick wears off and then I’ll be on my merry way? I’ll even give poor Shadow Stalker back.” He grinned. “Eventually.” Then he frowned, tilting his head like he was listening. “Or right after we’re done. Whatever.”

So someone else was feeding him orders. Probably Tattletale. Again, the PRT guard unfroze and again Clockblocker reached down to touch him.

“I cannot allow you to leave with one of our own held hostage,” Miss Militia said. “If you surrender now, I promise that you will be given a fair trial. If you keep fighting us, I can make no guarantees.”

Again, Regent laughed. “Nice threats and all, but there’s two problems with that. First, I’m not even here. I’m not dumb enough to tell you where I am, but I’ve got a pretty impressive range. If you kill Shadow Stalker to stop me, it’ll be a pain in the ass, but not much else. Second, if I wasn’t borrowing her, I probably would have tried to recruit her. Girl has a vicious streak a mile wide.” Shadow Stalker’s voice shook more and more. “Those lethal bolts I’ve got? Got them right off her and she’s been using them for a while.” Shadow Stalker’s lips turned down into a pout. “Shot Grue one time and ruined a brand new nine hundred dollar couch.” Regent shrugged. “You just might want to look into what she’s been up to, just saying.”

“I’m far more interested in your crimes than I am in hers,” Miss Militia shot back without missing a bit. “The Protectorate does not take body control lightly.”

“No it doesn’t,” Regent agreed. “Not nearly as lightly as it takes setting capes up to die during an Endbringer attack or allowing a Ward to bully civilians by,” he paused, reached into Shadow Stalker’s uniform, withdrew a battered old phone “let’s see, taking a student’s bag and quote: fill it with paint when teach leaves room. put it in lost&found. her art midterm is inside so she might look for it and find it and be all yay i found it and then she looks inside and sees its fucked.” He tossed the phone away and Clockblocker caught it. 

By now, there was a small crowd forming at the edges of the foyer. Clockblocker passed the PRT guard off to a doctor and walked over to Weld. 

“Get me close enough and I could freeze him,” he murmured.

Weld shook his head fractionally. “Too risky. Not much time.” The words vibrated in his chest, his mouth closed.

“I’ve had enough of this,” Miss Militia finally snapped. “Release her from your control now or I will tranquilize her and you won’t be able to recover what you used her to steal.”

Regent leaned out farther over the lines of electricity holding him captive. “And risk killing her?” he asked.

Miss Militia raised her gun. “By your own admission, she’s not much of a loss.”

“Harsh,” Regent said, sitting back on Shadow Stalker’s heels. “Welp, this has been fun, but I think we’re done here.” He threw Shadow Stalker’s head back and screamed, loud and long. 

The doors flung open and a swarm of bugs spilled through, thick enough to block out the sunlight. Clockblocker caught a glimpse of a girl in a grey horned mask slipping into the swarm, something clutched tightly in her hand, but the cockroaches trying to crawl down his throat distracted him and the girl slipped out of his mind.

When the dust cleared, the electric lines had vanished, dead bugs piled under where they had been, and Shadow Stalker sat in the middle, hugging her knees to her chest, staring blindly. 

“Shadow Stalker, please come with me,” Miss Militia said gently. She could even have been called motherly, but she hadn’t put her gun away.

Wordlessly, Shadow Stalker got up, not even reacting as one of the guards put a not entirely comforting hand on her shoulder. No one moved or reacted until she was well out of sight. Then, Clockblocker punched the wall next to him hard enough to dent it. “Fuck!” he shouted.

“Ditto,” Kid Win murmured.

Clockblocker locked eyes with Weld, seeing the same harsh fury reflected back at him. Regent had made a mockery of them, tore one of their team members to shreds, and they could do nothing to retaliate. On top of that, Skitter had rejoined the Undersiders.

She had seemed calm, even pleasant. She had saved his life. And then she had turned around and tried to kill him. Had the Undersiders already taken Shadow Stalker when they had talked at the memorial? Had she been trying to distract him while they ripped away Shadow Stalker’s free will? Was Skitter a girl in a bad situation or as sociopathic as Regent?

Clockblocker looked down at the phone in his hands, at the old text messages, and he couldn’t quite convince himself that Shadow Stalker didn’t deserve some worse punishment than her superhero celebrity status. But not what Regent had done.

A few hours later, Chris found Dennis in the gym. Dennis had already managed to destroy one punching bag and he was well on his way to breaking his second. Dennis watched without acknowledging him as Chris sat down on the floor at the side of the gym. He had a few tools and was digging around in one of his guns, but he kept looking up at Dennis nervously.

“You want something?” Dennis demanded.

“Just making sure you’re alright,” Chris said. “We’re all pretty shaken up.” He was hesitating, not looking at Dennis. He was worried about something.

Dennis nodded. “What are they doing with Sophia?” he asked.

“I dunno,” Chris said. “I’ve heard talks of sending her to juvie. The phone had some pretty damning stuff on it and she confessed to all of it. Apparently she was bullying some girl badly enough that the girl ended up in the psych ward for a while.”

“Christ,” Dennis said. “We sure Regent didn’t make her confess?”

“Thinkers say it’s legit,” Chris explained. “And hospital records confirm it. But that’s not what I wanted to talk to you about.”

Dennis sighed heavily. “Am I gonna want to sit down for this?” he asked.

Chris nodded. “Those three bodies we found?” he said. “Three bodies each in three places?”

“All with different methods of killing,” Dennis said. “That doesn’t fit with any serial killer I’ve heard of.”

“Not one killer,” Chris explained. “Nine killers.”

Dennis stared at him for a moment. “The Slaughterhouse Nine,” he stated blandly. “Fuck my entire life with a cactus.”

If nothing else, at least he would be able to keep busy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I made a few alterations to the timeline to make things work. Skitter rejoined the Undersiders right before her conversation with Dennis at the memorial and the plan to steal PRT data obviously works a little differently. (In case the plan wasn't clear, Regent took Shadow Stalker in first to get to the computers and then stalled for time while Imp took the information out.)
> 
> The fic is moving fairly fast right now because I'm skipping over a lot of stuff that basically happens like in canon. Once the divergences start getting bigger/more notable, I'll be able to take my time more. I'll also try to take my time less and update more frequently.
> 
> And, yes, I do ship Clockblocker/Kid WIn.
> 
> Please review.


	3. Gnomon 1.3

Barred from helping track down the Slaughterhouse Nine, Dennis spent the next few days practically living in Chris’s workshop. Chris tolerated him in a way he tolerated few people in his workshop. Mostly because Dennis knew when to stay out of the way and when he could slip in to massage Chris’s aching neck or press a kiss to his hands.

When Chris was stressed, he worked. He hadn’t left his workshop since the murders aside from patrols. Dennis had brought him all his meals and sat by him to make sure he ate. He knew it was unhealthy, that it couldn’t go on forever, but for now, they coped however they knew how.

“You know, I’m thinking that therapist Weld mentioned might actually be a good idea,” Dennis noted one day, watching Chris solder some mysterious wires in place.

Chris hummed in agreement.

Dennis didn’t push the conversation any further. He liked to joke, make himself the center of attention, and he certainly could have distracted Chris, but it was nice to just relax. He needed the quiet.

Moments later, Battery entered the workshop. “We’re going on patrol,” she said. “Piggot wants you shadowing me.”

“You have fun,” Chris mumbled, his eyes fixed on the wires of whatever gadget he was working on. Let me know how it goes.”

Dennis ruffled Chris’s hair as he walked by. He slipped on his mask, sealing it to his bodysuit. Battery pulled on her own mask and flexed her fingers, energy crackling between them.

“We’re heading down to the docks,” she said. “Just a routine patrol, showing the people we’re still here. It gives them more confidence.”

Clockblocker seriously doubted that, but he kept his mouth shut. A quick patrol would help clear his thoughts. He followed her down to the Docks silently. There wasn’t much to talk about. He half wanted to start a conversation to keep his mind off the devastation that surrounded them, but he couldn’t think of anything to say.

Almost as soon as they entered the Docks, a swarm of bugs appeared, coalescing into the word ‘food’ surrounded by arrows.

Clockblocker and Battery shared a look before following the arrows. Skitter had to be making a move.

“We gonna tell the bosses about this?” Clockblocker asked.

“Already opened a line,” Battery said. “In a couple seconds they’ll be listening in.”

A crowd was gathering around them, everyone glancing suspiciously at everyone else. Clockblocker noted that most of the people carried some sort of weapon, if not a gun then a knife or a crowbar. Still, they followed the arrows of bugs without too much incident. 

Once they reached an open space with a large van at the other end, Battery leaned against a phone pole to watch the events unfold. Clockblocker stood next to her, trying not to react at the civilians who were staring at them. When the crowd got large enough to fill the entire square, the hovering swarm drew together into a humanoid figure.

Clockblocker watched it carefully as it strode through the crowd before lunging into the van, where Skitter emerged from the swarm. The amateur theatrics would have been pretty intimidating if Clockblocker hadn’t know what she was capable of. She definitely couldn’t turn herself into a mass of bugs. Still, her swarm clone was pretty impressive.

“Some of you know me!” Skitter cried, the bugs buzzing in tandem with her words. “My name is Skitter. I am laying claim to the area. From this moment, I rule this territory.”

Clockblocker almost moved forward to act, but Battery put a hand on his shoulder.

“Wait,” she whispered, one finger on her earpiece. 

Clockblocker settled back, watching as Skitter declared her noble intentions. She offered rations, work, an end to gang violence in her territory. Clockblocker screamed in frustration. Either she was lying, getting their hopes up for nothing, or she really could deliver on her promises. He didn’t know which one was worse.

Villains had no right to help people better than the heroes could. Still, one of the families stepped forward, accepting the offered supplies. Soon, that one family turned into a throng of people.

“Aren’t we gonna do anything?” Clockblocker hissed.

“Not yet,” Battery murmured. “Wait until she gets violent.”

Of course. They couldn’t arrest Skitter while she actively took over part of the city. That would make the heroes look bad. They had to wait until she hurt someone, step in after the damage was already done. Maybe all those boxes of supplies had bombs. That didn’t make sense, but villains tended to be irrational people anyway. No one would be able to stop until it was too late, because Skitter had the fucking gall to look like she was helping people.

She did help people, sometimes. She had helped Clockblocker, and then extorted a favor from him. And now she looked like she was helping innocent people, sure, but not for nothing. She wasn’t an altruist. She was a menace. And they couldn’t do anything to stop her.

Clockblocker hated the surge of relief he felt when one of the men drew a knife, waving back anyone who got near. Battery’s hand was still on his shoulder so he hung back reluctantly.

“You feel proud with that knife of yours?” Skitter called, sitting casually on the lip of the truck, bugs swarming around her like dirty buzzing ribbons.

“Fuck you!” the man yelled. “I’m not scared of fucking bugs!”

Skitter hopped down silently, stalking closer. Even her bugs went silent, or at least stopped chittering.

“You a member of the Merchants?” she asked curiously.

“Fuck you,” the man repeated.

Skitter sighed in exasperation. “Fine, I don’t really care. But you wanna threaten my people? You gotta be ready to take me on.”

“Not scared of you,” the man snarled.

“Prove it,” Skitter shot back without missing a beat. “Stab me.”

Clockblocker blinked. The man hesitated. The whole crowd seemed to hold its breath. None of them had been expecting that response.

“What?” Skitter laughed. “I thought you weren’t scared of me.”

“I’m not,” the man insisted.

Skitter spread her arms wide, gesturing invitingly. “Then stab me,” she yelled. “Unless you’re just a bully, too scared of someone standing up to you to even attack them.”

The man started towards her, stopped, then lunged again. She clung to his shoulders for support. He threw her off and stabbed her twice more. She didn’t react, at least not at first. Then, while the man panted, drew his arm back for another blow, she held out her hand. Bugs flowed out from her costume and the man screamed.

He fell backwards, stumbling into the water, writhing in agony. All the while, Skitter stood over him impassively. She hadn’t bothered to look at Clockblocker and Battery since the start of her speech. When the man tried to prop himself up, Skitter stepped down on his knife hand, grinding his fingers into the ground until he released it.

She picked up the knife and Battery finally moved forward. “I can’t let you use that,” she said.

Skitter shrugged. “Wasn’t planning on it.” She tossed the knife to Battery.

“How does this tie into the stunt you pulled at HQ?” Battery asked.

“The information we got was worth a lot of money,” Skitter explains. “The kind of money that buys you stuff like this.” She gestured at the boxes of supplies in her truck.

“I don’t agree with this,” Battery said.

“What, feeding my people?” Skitter asked. “You’re not gonna stop me. I’m the least of a whole lot of evils in this city right now.”

Battery nodded. “For now.”

“For now,” Skitter agreed. “In the meantime, I’m getting my supplies from an outside agent, I’m policing my territory, I’m helping these people at my own expense. You aren’t gonna get in the way of that, are you?”

Clockblocker couldn’t let that slide. “At your own expense, huh?” He said, trying not to snarl. “And how many people did you hurt to get that money.”

Skitter paused. “A lot,” she admitted. “But I’m doing a lot more good with it now then you people are doing with your ethically collected tax money. I’m sure you have billionaires giving up their tax breaks to fund our recovery. So you’ve got to wonder where all that money is going.”

“We have bigger things to consider than just one city,” Clockblocker said, the words ringing false even as he said them. He couldn’t deny that he thought the Protectorate’s action figure budget could have been put to better use.

“Of course,” Skitter agreed. “So, for now, I’ll consider the needs of this one city.”

“And when you get bored of that?” Battery asked, steering the conversation back in their favor. “What’s your agenda?”

“Who says I have one?” Skitter asked.

“You kind always has an agenda.” 

“Maybe I’m unique.”

“I doubt it,” Battery said cooly. “The villain pretending to be a hero? Or pretending to be a hero pretending to be a villain? You’re more likely to have an agenda than anyone else here.”

Skitter sighed. “Don’t know what to tell you. No agenda here.”

“What about Shadow Stalker?” Clockblocker demanded. “There was no agenda there?” He didn’t want to say what Skitter had done out loud. He didn’t want to spread panic.

Skitter looked directly at him, her bugs billowing around her like a cat raising its hackles. It’s venomous, incredibly disturbing hackles. “Shadow Stalker?” She asked, her voice icy. “She’s half the reason I became a villain. She’s done a whole lot worse than what we did to her. I heard you put her in juvie. We all know that’s where she belongs. If not the Birdcage.”

“You don’t know the first thing about her,” Clockblocker insisted. He didn’t like Shadow Stalker, none of the Wards did, but that didn’t mean she deserved being under Regent’s control.

“I think I do,” Skitter said. “Now, are you guys gonna chit chat all day or can I get back to giving out supplies?”

“For now we have you listed as low priority,” Battery said. “I suspect someone forgot to change that after the stunt you pulled last night. We’ll do this by the book and walk away, but the second you cross the line, we’ll come for you. No holds barred.”

Skitter inclined her head. “I wouldn’t expect any less.”

Clockblocker followed Battery off the scene, his shoulders taut with anger. As soon as they were away from the crowd, Battery whirled around and cuffed him in the head hard enough to hurt.

“Do you have any idea how bad you could have fucked us over back there?” She demanded, energy crackling through her body. “We’re outnumbered, understaffed, and we’ve got the Slaughterhouse Nine hanging around. You never let a villain gain an inch.”

Clockblocker swallowed his anger and replied. “I wanted her to answer for what she’s done,”he said, looking straight ahead over Battery’s shoulder.

Battery sighed. “We all do. But right now we have to work to keep our legitimacy. If the people think they can’t trust us, they’ll go to villains like her for support. We don’t need to let her have an army.”

Clockblocker nodded. “I’m sorry.”

“You’re young,” Battery said. “This is your first Endbringer attack. You’ll learn how to play the game. In the meantime, leave the talking to me.”

“Actually,” Clockblocker started nervously, “About that…”

Battery very calmly hid her face in one hand. “Dare I ask?”

“Shouldn’t we tell her that the Nine are in the city? Give her some warning?”

Battery lifted her face out of her hands, looked at him for a split second, and then put her face back into her hands. “Yes,” she said. “Yes we should. In fact, why don’t you go do that?”

“Alone?” Clockblocker asked.

“If she tries to fight you, take her in,” Battery said. “Other than that, well, Miss Militia told me about the debt. See if you can clear it by telling her. If I come with, it’ll look like a threat. Don’t give her anything but the warning.”

“Right,” Clockblocker said. “Are you sure that’s a good idea?”

“It was your idea not mine,” Battery said. “Chances are, the Nine are here to recruit and we haven’t heard anything from them since the initial murders. She’ll figure it out before they strike even if we don’t tell her.”

“But it should count as the favor I owe her.”

Battery shrugged. “It might. If you think it’s worth a shot, I’ll wait here for you. Twenty minutes until I raise the alarm.”

Clockblocker nodded, steeling his nerve. Skitter may have helped him once, but she was dangerous, manipulative, a lot cleverer than she looked. He needed to get out of her debt as quickly as possible.

When he got back to the square, the crowd had dissipated, leaving only Skitter and a girl with bright red dreadlocks. Skitter turned to look at Clockblocker.

“I didn’t think you had enough supplies for everyone,” Clockblocker noted before Skitter had the chance to speak.

“I will be the end of the day,” Skitter said cautiously. “What are you doing here?”

“I owe you a favor, right?” Clockblocker said. “I’m here to repay it.”

“Oh?” Skitter asked, shifting her weight towards him.

A few bugs crawled over his shoulders. He fought down the instinctive shudder.

“This isn’t something I want becoming common knowledge,” Clockblocker said, looking at the girl, who had gone pale.

Skitter gestured absentmindedly. “Wait here,” she told the girl. “This won’t take long.” She ushered Clockblocker into a nearby room and leaned against the doorframe. “What is it?” she asked.

Clockblocker did his best to look her in the eye, ignoring the bees and cockroaches crawling across her face. “Slaughterhouse Nine is in Brockton Bay.”

Skitter drew in a shocked breath. “Are you sure?”

“Pretty damn sure.”

Skitter nodded. “Right. Of course. Slaughterhouse Nine. Lovely.”

“We think they’re here to recruit,” Clockblocker said. “I don’t think they’ll strike just yet.”

“Thank you,” Skitter said sincerely. “I’ll keep that in mind.” She walked out the door, a curtain of bugs preventing Clockblocker from attacking her while her back was turned.

“Wait,” Clockblocker called.

Skitter paused. 

“That settles our debt,” Clockblocker declared.

Skitter scoffed. “No it doesn’t. I appreciate you telling me, don’t get me wrong, but that’s not a favor. It’s just following the Truce.”

“Because you villains do such a great job of following the Truce,” Clockblocker retorted.

Skitter looked at him. “Yeah, actually we do. Armsmaster was the one who broke the Truce.”

“Wasn’t it a villain that leaked Empire-88’s secret identities to the public?” Clockblocker asked.

“Wasn’t it the Protectorate who kidnapped Purity’s infant child to force her to surrender?” Skitter pointed out. “And, before you say anything, we were the ones who told her where to find the kid. Which is why she, you know, stopped randomly levelling buildings. So you’re welcome.”

“I didn’t have to tell you,” Clockblocker said.

“You’re right,” Skitter said. “You didn’t. But you said it yourself; the Slaughterhouse Nine aren’t gonna strike for a little while. We would have found out about them by then. I really don’t think that’s worth me saving your life. And, honestly? I’m getting pretty tired of how entitled all you heroes are.”

“Entitled?” Clockblocker demanded. “Really? I’m trying to save this city while you go around conquering it-”

“Passing out basic food supplies,” Skitter interrupted. “Which, I should mention, my people didn’t have access to before because you’ve been failing to protect your supply trains from Merchants of all people.”

Clockblocker growled in frustration. He was really starting to regret this meeting. 

“You explicitly said that you were taking over the city,” he said.

“Just that territory,” Skitter corrected. “And did you miss the part where I promised to get rid of the scum feeding on it?” She added sweetly.

“I did miss the part where you realized that you’re part of that scum,” Clockblocker said.

At that, the swarm roared, spiraling around him in a loose sphere of insects, their chittering and clicking drilling into his skull. “Watch your tone,” they said. “I’ve saved your life once already and you will repay me.”

Clockblocker stood his ground. “You want to pretend you’re a hero or vigilante or whatever? Fine. But we’re the ones who actually help people in the long run.”

Abruptly, the swarm dissipated. “I’m hitting the Merchants tonight,” Skitter said. “Quick in and out. Search and rescue for one of their prisoners. A follower’s relative.” That must have been the redheaded girl Clockblocker saw earlier. “You really want to help people? Be on your guard. I’m not gonna play nice with them.”

“Is that a challenge?” Clockblocker asked.

“No,” Skitter insisted. “I’m not trying to take them down tonight. Just help one person. But they’ll be distracted. You might want to see if you can save more.”

Clockblocker inclined his head. “Then, is that your favor?”

“I’m not wasting that,” Skitter said. “Just be patient.” She clapped her hands together. “Now. I have to get back to work. You have five minutes to be gone before I make you regret coming.”

With that, she left. Clockblocker didn’t try to follow. He had an assault to prepare.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Updates will be slow as I try to deal with school and life, but the plot should start going more AU soon.


	4. Gnomon 1.4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait for such a short chapter. Life has been getting in the way of writing for a while. I'll be going overseas soon and I don't know how much internet I'll have, but I will have a couple of 8 hour plane rides to work on this fic so hopefully I'll be able to post fairly frequently in the near future. Plus, we're getting close to the parts that I actually wanted to write.
> 
> As always, please review.

Everyone who had been a cape or worked with them for more than about a week knew that any Tinker worth the name never used the same gadget twice. Some had even theorized that it was a peculiar drawback to that class of capes in an attempt to explain why Tinker would spend months or even years on a project, come up with the perfect counter to a particular enemy, and then scrap it after using it against someone completely different. That was pretty rare, though. Usually, each time a Tinker went onto the field, their gear would be a little better, a little more efficient, have a couple new tricks.

An entire room full of computers connected by a web of wires was a bit excessive, even by Tinker standards.

“What the hell, Chris?” Dennis asked, dumbfounded.

Chris glanced up briefly from the screen labeled ‘23-A-DevEid-ES-CBR’. “Oh hey, babe,” he said. “Working on something.”

“Do I even want to know,” Dennis asked.

“Secret,” Chris mumbled. “Sorry.” He hit a few buttons, transferring a file a few computers over to ‘26-A-ObsAle-EL-KKJ’ and ‘26-B-DevLun-EL-KKJ’. 

“Can you leave?” Dennis asked, knowing better than to question a busy Tinker. “I’m calling a team meeting.”

“Give me two minutes,” Chris said, directing one of Armsmaster’s little intern bots to attach another cable between computers and typing on two different keyboards simultaneously. 

Dennis shut the door and walked back to the open space where the Wards spent most of their time. The rest of them were already assembled. Weld stood in the center of the wooden floor in a way that probably would have looked annoying regal if someone who definitely wasn’t Dennis hadn’t accidentally put in an order for all their chairs to be replaced with metal stools. Missy had warped her stool into an armchair shape, which she sat in sideways, legs swinging over the arms of the chair.

“Flechette’s out on patrol,” she said before Dennis could comment. “To see Parian, of course. It’s really pretty sweet of her.”

“Chris is Tinkering,” Dennis replied. “We should just get started.”

“Agreed,” Weld said. “The Merchants will be vulnerable tonight, right?”

“That’s what I heard,” Dennis confirmed. He had gone straight back to base after his meeting with Skitter. He had gone to Miss Militia with the news of the Merchants and she had told him in no uncertain terms that the Protectorate were absolutely forbidden from spending the manpower in an attack on that many supervillains while the city was still unstable. She had also mentioned that she had been overworked enough that she was forgetting to sign some disciplinary reports and that none of the Wards had taken their offered trauma leave yet.

Using trauma leave to go out and pick fights with gangs was pretty much the exact opposite of what it was designed for, but they had the closest thing to permission that they were ever going to get. Dennis had expected Weld to disapprove of obeying orders, but Weld was the one who had put in the trauma leave requests, gotten all the paperwork signed, and even came up with their cover stories.

It took them the whole afternoon to hash out their plan and the sky had started getting dark by the time they moved out.

Dennis wasn’t exactly comfortable with waltzing into a Merchant gathering without his bulletproof costume, but he had committed himself. Shadow Stalker walked next to him, silent and grim. Her usual temper had calmed somewhat, but Dennis was just as unnerved by the complete lack of emotion on her face.

They were the only two Wards to arrive as a pair. Technically speaking, Shadow Stalker was still in custody, but she couldn’t leave Dennis’s side without risking being taken over by Regent. Dennis would stop her if she tried anything.

As they approached the mall and the thundering, awkward sound of too many out of sync speakers thudded into Dennis’s ears, Shadow Stalker slung her arm around his shoulder, pulling him uncomfortably close. He tried to remind himself that it was all part of the ruse as Shadow Stalker laughed with the Merchant at the front doors of the mall.

As Shadow Stalker dragged him through the masses of drunken and drugged people, Dennis watched the crowd for any sign of other capes. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a woman lounging against a trash can, playing with bursts of color. A group of obviously intoxicated teens swayed around her, their eyes locked on her hands.

“Cape, 9 o’clock,” Dennis slurred as Shadow Stalker laughed uproariously at something a Merchant had said.

A few seconds later, a hooded figured slipped behind the woman and slapped a tiny patch on the back of her neck. The woman reeled and fell. Her audience dispersed in twos and threes, wandering in search of better entertainment.

“Cape in custody,” Weld confirmed, Vista drawing him and the woman back into the shadows. “Nice idea, by the way, buying Newter’s saliva.” 

“Thanks,” Dennis mumbled. It hadn’t come cheap, but Faultline was just as eager to see the Merchants gone from the city as anyone else.

The night wore on and Dennis got more and more nervous. They had managed to bring a half dozen minor capes into custody but hadn’t seen any sign of the real targets: Skidmark and Squealer. Just before Dennis called it quits, Skidmark’s voice sounded over the intercom. 

Shadow Stalker pushed through the crowd, dragging Dennis behind her. They got there just in time to see the floor tilt upward, enclosing part of the throng.

“Two steps back,” Vista said into Dennis’s comm. He tapped Shadow Stalker’s shoulder twice to relay the message.

Two steps brought them to the very edge of the mall, tucked away in a dark corner next to Vista and Weld. Vista had pulled her hair up to make herself look more boyish and she was dressed in a torn up Star Wars shirt and cargo shorts. Weld had settled for covering all his metal skin with dark clothing.

“Looks like it’s getting hairy,” Weld noted as Skidmark whipped the crowd into a bloody frenzy. “You guys want to call it a night?”

“I think we should stick around,” Vista said. “We might learn something.”

“What would we be learning?” Shadow Stalker scoffed. “The Merchants don’t have strategy or tactics or any of that. We know what junkies are like.”

“We’ve struck some pretty heavy blows even if they haven’t noticed it yet,” Weld pointed out. “I don’t mind staying but maybe we should quit while we’re ahead. I don’t think we’re gonna get a clear shot at Skidmark or his flunkies with that crowd.”

“Let’s just go,” Shadow Stalker said. “I’m fucking sick of having this moron clinging to me.”

Dennis seriously doubted that. This little adventure was her first time in days out of a tiny cell. But they had been stuck together all night. He knew how scared she was of Regent. 

“How many did we get?” he asked.

“Seven capes,” Weld said. “But no one on the record. So either their powers aren’t anything special or they’ve just triggered. Still, we captured a lot of their potential tonight.”

“Okay. Let’s go.”

But before they could leave, Skidmark’s grating voice reached a volume they couldn’t ignore. “We won the lottery when we found this shit!” he screamed. “Superpowers in a can!”

Dennis and the rest of the Wards glanced at each other.

“So, we’re staying then?” Vista asked.

Weld nodded. “We stick together,” he said. “I don’t know if Skidmark’s legit but he sure seems to think he is.”

“Could be all the drugs,” Shadow Stalker suggested.

Ahead of them, the crowd turned on each other, fighting everyone and anyone they could find. Vista used her power to keep them away, turning them back towards the thick of the fight if anyone drifted too the corner where the Wards were hiding.

“I doubt that,” Weld mused.

“Want to call the big guns in?” Dennis asked.

Weld shook his head. “This is all off record, remember? It wouldn’t do to get caught.” His grim expression twisted into a wry smile.

Dennis grinned back. “Didn’t know you had it in you, tin man,” he laughed. “So, we just gonna watch and wait?”

“Unless someone brought popcorn,” Weld affirmed.

Dennis honestly wished he had brought some as the fight dragged on. Shadow Stalker was starting to get twitchy and retreating into herself and all of Vista’s attention was on keeping them safe without anyone realizing what she was doing but Dennis and Weld watched the scene carefully.

“Two o’clock,” Weld pointed out. “See that group in the black clothes? Mercenary maybe?”

Dennis looked over to a cluster of tall, burly men armed with tactical knives and military grade firearms. They were in a loose circle, fighting off anyone that got close but not initiating anything. “Probably. Wouldn’t surprise me if Coil had eyes here.”

“I doubt they’re in the crowd though,” Weld said. “I bet he has a cape in the Merchants. It’s more controlled that way. 

Before Dennis could respond, Skidmark’s shrieking voice brought the fight to a halt. 

A young man with some uncontrolled blast power walked slowly up to the platform. “Huh,” Dennis mused. “I didn’t notice him before. Did he trigger during the fight?”

Weld stared at him. “You- you didn’t see that?”

“See what?” Dennis asked, perturbed.

Weld shook his head. “Nevermind.” Dennis noticed that he was holding onto the railing of the stairs with one gloved fist. “Let’s get out of here.”

“Wait, what?” Dennis demanded. “There’s a guy here giving people powers in a can and you just want to leave?”

“I’ve seen everything I need to,” Weld said. “Assault patrols here and he should be by in a few minutes with one of Legend’s team. We don’t need them catching us here.”

“I think Legend would make an exception for this,” Dennis insisted. 

Dennis watched as Skidmark insisted that the boy, Scrub, couldn’t share the vial of powers with both of his friends.

“We need to go,” Weld said. “Vista, get us out of here.”

Vista nodded, her forehead covered in a sheen of sweat. The wall of the building split in two and Weld strode through it, not even checking to see that he was being followed. Dennis nearly protested again, but he saw the rail Weld had been holding onto. It was squeezed to about as thick as a pencil. 

Dennis slipped out of the wall, pulling Shadow Stalker along with him. Weld got into the passenger seat of the PRT van that Flechette had commandeered. Dennis, Vista, and Shadow Stalker piled into the back with their Merchant prisoners. The Wards didn’t exchange a word as they drove home.

Dennis put Shadow Stalker back into her cell while Vista and Weld handled the Merchants.

“You know what’s got the boy scout so pissed off?” Shadow Stalker asked as Dennis closed and locked the electrified door.

Dennis shook his head. “I’m not sure I want to know.”


End file.
